Date: Fri, 22 Jan 2016 09:29:21 -0500 From: David Mathenge Subject: A Memoriam Of Trees 15 A Memoriam of Trees I, Alexandre Savoie, claims ownership to this story. All names, characters and events mentioned indicia are purely mythological and fictional. Readers are to be reminded and suggested to give away donations to help Nifty Story keeping up with its daily growing archives. Thank you. This is the fifteenth and final piece of the prologuial Book One from the Memoriam of Trees story. Please, light up and enjoy. No Time Can Be Mentioned Here Hall Of Fame Heaven, Afterlife 'Maximus!' whispered a voice in my head. ' Wake up! Maximus, the Chosen One!' I opened my eyes and started to gaze around. It was an undescribable room, because there was no other features than a dazzling white light, and nothing else. It would not hurt my eyes. It would just feel peaceful, serene, and relaxing to the eyesight. Then... I quickly turned my gaze in front of me. There, a wooden person was standing in front of me. I was startled, because I did not notice it at first. It was not Vinbieth, but definitely a Tree Shepherd. 'I am Wurfog. I am the Guardian of the Memoriam of Trees standing in South America. I was instructed to give you some directives. Here, it is the Hall Of Fame, in Heaven untouched by evil's hearts. The Hall of Fame is the last stronghold against King Aryan's evil forces.' He then chuckled as he saw my clueless face. 'Maximus, please, don't be alarmed... Take a look at yourself!' I managed to finally take a look at my own shape and clothes. I gasped. I was wearing garments of deep brown colour, medieval inspired. They were light and comfy. Under them, there was a very thin and hard mail shirt which covered me from neck down to my leather boots. I had also a leather belt with two sheaths. One carrying a rather classical stiletto on my left hip. The other was on my back and it was holding a marvellous sword with a golden, elaborate handle. On top of the sword sheath was a iron wrought shield bearing the marks of a brown Tree Shepherd on an emerald green background solid colour. I also had leather gloves with my fingertips going through their tips, so I could carry stuff easier. I did not look like young eighteen years old Maxime anymore neither. My skin, once pale, was turned dark as coal, and my once red vivid lips were thick and brown. My nose went from thin and pale to a big, coal coloured and a bit squashed one. Even better, my whole body had shifted from Caucasian to African. My whole shape was bulky, with solid iron muscles definitely showing under my dark skin, and inside myself, I felt a far more greater physical, mind and soul's power than ever before. Wurfog chuckled again with honest mirth. 'Ho, ho, ho. Aren't you better than ever before, young Hero? You are no longer Maxime, but you are Maximus.' I could not speak. I felt silenced. I just stared at Wurfog with utter bewilderment. 'Now, I have been asked to give you directives and explain everything, or at least, most of the current situation. Now... where to begin? Ah! Yes! So... the colonel has indeed killed you. Vinbieth, who already was aware that his -- and your -- time was short, managed to bless you with a protection which prevented you to disappear to the netherland like the normal dead. He sent you in here. Now... you may not know this, but actually, you have been chosen, by a King, whom I cannot tell you the true identity yet, as the Hero who will restore the Seven Memoriam of Trees scattered throughout Earth, defeat Evil King Aryan and bring back the Power of Alchemy to the dying planet.' Wurfog then scowled. 'I can sense your questions about Alchemy, but you will have to wait until you have proven yourself to know what this immense Power exactly is, and why has it been sealed away in the beginnings of humankind. I am sorry, Maximus, but when you are older... I mean... when you are ready, things will be explained to you, all in due time.' He cleared his throat and went on. 'Now, when you have been sent here, you have been put to a deep slumber for seven years. Yes! Seven years! I know it might shock you, but you are now a twenty-five years old man, and fully grown. Furthermore, you are -- or were -- a Caucasian, and the Hero could not be one. Thus, the power of this Hall have, during those slow years, transformed you into a man with Pure African Descent. Someday, when your Quest will be done, you will regain your normal form. Yet, I am sure you would not complain about your sharp new look, eh? Ho,ho,ho! ' He let out some other of his mirth, then: 'Now, now, don't be afraid! Time has only passed for you, it had not passed on Earth. You will not need to be afraid once sent back on the dying planet for your Quest! But remember this, and keep this well in your mind... ' Wurfog's face looked grave. ' Though you and your company have always passed through the doors of the North American Memoriam of Trees in the name of peace, I am afraid that colonel have passed through it in the name of evil. Already, Vinbieth cannot be communicated with anymore, and I am afraid he has been silenced for a good time, until you find some way to save him. You have indeed been killed, and once you are back alive, it will be the dawn of the following day. I am afraid all of your companions have been taken away by the colonel's army. Of course, he had failed to have his wish granted and, in his rage, decided to capture everyone of your friends. He had burned down your whole property, and he did not care about you, so much, in fact, that he never saw your body had transformed into what you are right now.' He then gave me a transpiercing look. ' I, for one, am one of the Seven Tree Shepherds. I am also in need of your aid down south. You have to restore all of the other Memoriam of Trees, and save all of their guardians. Along with us seven, the hidden King who has chosen you, and of course, yourself, we will be able to fight as one, to bind the evil incarnation away, to restore Alchemy, and to bring Earth back to its forsaken Ancient Golden Age.' He then smiled. ' Now, please, close your eyes, and relax, and I will send you on your way. Maximus, Chosen One, find the Seven Memoriam of Trees, and Save the Earth!' He lifted his twiggy hands in the air, and I felt myself go down... down... down... Here ends Book One of this story. Montreal Quebec, Canada